However, the man who committed violence against her would have a second time.
As long as he was enraged, he could make her miserable anytime, anywhere. Irish was not stupid enough to hurt herself.
She would not ask him for help, nor would she expect him to reach out to help her.
If he was a disaster she couldn't avoid, would she try to turn a blind eye to him? But the next second, Irish felt like she was a chicken pulled up by him. It hurt her badly that she frowned and bit her lower lip.
Joseph lowered his eyes, and they naturally fell on her neckline.
Because of their height difference, the full scenery on her chest was also seen by him.
There were traces of varying depths, black and purple, scratches, bite marks, and hickeys.
Joseph looked at Irish with emotion. She was as weak as a rabbit, and he could easily find her whole body was trembling.
